


The Heart of a Rebel

by msdaphne



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Engagement, Handfasting, Kids, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Poe's Gucci scarf
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-11
Updated: 2019-05-11
Packaged: 2020-02-27 13:57:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,918
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18740437
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/msdaphne/pseuds/msdaphne
Summary: It's been over a year, now, since the cataclysm. Since Starkiller, since Crait, since the Order closed its fist around the galaxy. But every world seems to have its own version of the same maxim:The smallest pebble starts the avalanche. Snow gathers snow. Each drop of rain finds the river.Finn and Poe have spent the last year or so gathering allies, new and old, to resist the new empire. This story takes place on one of those diplomatic missions.





	The Heart of a Rebel

**Author's Note:**

> When I refer to "the Order," it's not meant as an abbreviation. I imagine that the new regime dropped the "First" once they thought they had completed the work of reconstituting the Empire.

* * *

 

It had been so hard, at first. They'd roughed it together through those long, dark months before the alliance coalesced, when all they'd had to live on was hope and desperation and a stubborn insistence on going down fighting. Poe hadn't had any pride left to swallow when they approached outskirt planets, empty-handed, about taking up arms against the new empire. More than once they'd been mistaken for refugees, seeking protection.

The only unreserved commitments had come from places like Spalex, places that knew they would eventually face certain genocide under the Order. Places that didn't have much to offer in the way of materiel or trained fighters.

But every world seemed to have its own version of the same maxim: _The smallest pebble starts the avalanche. Snow gathers snow and becomes a wheel. Each drop of rain finds the river_.

After a few months, allies had started seeking _them_ out. It had been over a year now, and the alliance had become a force. They had even managed to wrest a few sectors from the Order's grasp. No one would dare say that victory was in sight, and no one knew what that victory would look like. But the Order was finally beginning to bleed.

 

* * *

 

Nothing showed how dramatically the tide had turned as the way they were greeted, now. Not as refugees, but as emissaries and advisors.

Poe hated it. He resented these relatively wealthy worlds for sitting on the fence for so long, when they could have saved so much pain and loss if they'd just had the nads to stand up to the Order sooner. But he did his job, charming them with war stories and invoking history to rouse their fighting spirits.

Finn was getting tired of it, but he didn't quite hate it, yet. The joy of discovery had kept him aloft for a while- new climates, new cultures, new cuisines. At some point, people had stopped side-eyeing him as an ex-trooper, and begun to openly express their admiration. That was nice. Especially when the alliance had _finally_ begun to understand that liberating subadult cadets wasn't just a humanitarian objective, but a strategic one.

That was what had really turned things around. Depriving the Order of batches of 'recruits' had far more impact than hitting a supply depot here and there. It had forced them to turn the screws, raiding their own territory, which in turn had driven occupied worlds to revolt.

 

Sometimes Poe wept on his shoulder in the dark. _If it wasn't for you. You're a fucking miracle_.

 _It would have been someone._  Finn kissed the tears from Poe's cheeks. _The real miracle is that the Force brought us together._

 

* * *

 

Right on cue, a pair of their hosts snagged Finn at tea, exuding the kind of curiosity that couldn't be politely expressed in open session. _I've never met a stormtrooper before! What's it like? I mean, really like? How did you sleep? What did you eat_? He could have this conversation in his sleep, at this point.

He wasn't the only one. Poe held his arm, ready to tug him away at the first lull. His tired eyes drifted closed; he leaned in to Finn's shoulder. He tried to suppress a shuddering yawn.

“Sorry. Long... flight.”

“Go on, Poe. I'll be there in a few.”

“Mm, bless you. But don't be long, okay?” Poe kissed his cheek. “See you in the morning,” he nodded to the hosts, who turned to Finn with a whole new titillating subject to press him on.

 

  
Twenty minutes later, Finn had managed to extricate himself, promising to continue the conversation in the morning. Free for the moment, he stepped out into a bright orange afternoon. He breathed in the fresh, if slightly ozonated air, and shrugged off the weight of diplomacy.

He smiled at a group of children playing in the middle of the plaza. Running, shouting, falling over one another. It made him smile, but it also tugged at his heart. There was no point in regretting his own upbringing, but he wished that he could know what it was like. To be six, seven, eight years old, running around with friends, screeching and crashing into one another. Playing some game beneath the ken of adults, instead of being scored on battlefield simulations.

“Okay, Gold Squadron! Attack formation!”

Wait, that sounded like Poe.

 _Attack formation! Attack formation!_ the kids cried.

“Follow my lead, team. Let's clear those vents.”

That _was_ Poe. There he was, in the middle of the scrum of children, on his knees, at their level. His body swayed through an imaginary run on a star destroyer; his hands flipped over invisible controls. The kids wove around him, each taking his wing in their imagination.

It was beyond adorable. So adorable it almost hurt to watch.

 

 _I got one!_ one of the kids cried _. I killed a stormtrooper!_

“Stay on mission, Gold Squadron. We're here to clear those ventral cannons.”

_I got one too! Kill the stormtroopers!_

“Steady there, Gold.”

Most of the kids looked to Poe, but an excited few jumped and spun uncontrollably. They pointed finger guns at their mates. _Pew! Pew! I killed you, you dumb buckethead!_

The kids began eyeing one another, determining through some primal understanding of dominance who would get to be the good guys and who would be drafted into the role of the enemy. Poe saw it too; Finn could see the dismay on his face. This wasn't how he'd wanted the game to go.

“Okay. I'll be the stormtrooper.” Poe said this decisively, _almost_ sounding like an adult in their midst. The kids stopped and stared for a second, a second which Poe took to jump to his feet and step away from the gaggle. It was then that he saw Finn watching, and his face lit up. He beckoned Finn over to play, but Finn just shook his head, happy enough to watch.

 

Poe shivered dramatically as he assumed the role. He leaned toward the group with an imaginary blaster in his hands. He barked at them in his best impression of a voice modulator.

“Halt, rebel scum!”

_No, you halt!_

_You halt, you dumb buckethead!_

“Don't call me that.”

_Pew! Pew! Pew! We killed you! You're dead!_

“But I don't want to die.”

_You have to fall down now!_

_You're dead, you dumb stormtrooper!_

“I don't want to be a stormtrooper anymore.”

_But you have to! You said!_

“I am! I am being the stormtrooper,” Poe assured them. “But I don't like the Order. They're mean to me. They don't even let me have a name! They just call me by a bunch of numbers.” Poe made sad puppy eyes at the kids. “I wanna run away.”

The kids were confused that Poe wasn't playing by the rules, but someone finally figured out what to do with him. _You're under arrest!_ she yelled, and the kids mobbed him, repeating _you're under arrest!_ as they grabbed whatever they could reach, dragging him back down to their level.

“Okay, you got me. I surrender.” Poe winced at something apparently painful, but didn't complain. “I don't mind being captured by _you_ guys. Will you let me take this stupid helmet off?”

_Yes! Take your stupid helmet off!_

Poe lifted his arms easily through the grasping hands and mimed the action. “ _Tchk-- hsss_.” He pulled the imaginary helmet off and sighed. “Ahh. That's better. Fresh air!”

_You're a weird stormtrooper._

“I know. And the Order doesn't _like_ people being weird.”

_They don't like you?_

“Nope. And I don't like them either. How can I be a rebel, like you?”

_You're not a rebel! You're under arrest!_

“Okay. You're not gonna torture me, are you?”

_No! That's what the bad guys do._

“Whew.” Poe grinned up at Finn. The kids followed his eyes, noticing Finn for the first time. A couple of the littlest ones, not quite following the game, ran right up to him and stared up.

“Are you Resistance?”

“Yes I am,” Finn nodded, and one of the kids wrapped around his leg like a post in a wind storm. The contrast with his own childhood, where cadets were forbidden such affection, tore at his heart. He rested his palm on the youngster's head.

“Rebels!” he announced. “The Resistance does not abuse prisoners of war. We disarm them, subdue them, and offer them the opportunity to reassess their allegiance.”

The kids blinked at the big words.

“Take his blaster, first.”

Heads whipped back to Poe. He held up the imaginary weapon.

“This is my blaster.” He tossed it away, and held up both hands. “I surrender. I don't want to be a stormtrooper anymore. I want to be free, like you.”

There was a pause, and then the kids glommed on to him again like hungry mynocks.

_We captured you! Take him to the base!_

Poe let them maul him some more, grinning up at Finn the whole time. He wasn't just being good with them, he was fucking _loving_ it.

 _Now cuff him_ , Finn thought, but he was definitely _not_ going to say that in front of the children. He didn't have to; Poe whispered something to one of the kids, and a second later they were pulling his scarf over his head.

“ _Aggck, c_ _areful- gkck-_ ”

Finn heard him choking, and barked out, “Careful with that prisoner! You're responsible for his safety!”

The kids wound the scarf around Poe's wrists. He could get out of in a heartbeat if he needed to, but he played along.

“So how do I join the Resistance?” He nodded towards Finn. “Is he a resistance officer? Can I talk to him?”

“Bring in the prisoner, please,” Finn commanded. Poe got to his feet. He laughed as he was jostled forward by the younglings. It wasn't clear how much they were intentionally manhandling their prisoner, and how much was clumsy, irrepressible exuberance; the kids were tripping over one another, too.

 

Finn was having some very inappropriate feelings about the way Poe looked with his wrists bound like that, feelings that didn't belong on a playground. For once, Poe didn't even seem to notice; he was too caught up in playing to realize how sexy he looked like that. He was grinning at Finn like a happy kid himself, entirely innocent.

Kriff, he was going to be such a good dad, someday.

If he survived long enough.

 

It had come up, of course. A few times, in a non-committal way. When-- _not if, but when_ \-- they brought down the Order, Poe wanted to give a home to a few of the hundreds of thousands of cadets that would be homeless without it. He wouldn't give a number, just _well, it depends on what the needs are. What shape I'm in and what I can handle. Whether anyone's going to handle it with me. For the record, I'd like that to be you, you know. But I know you have a lot of living to make up for. I don't want to tie you down._

Seeing Poe with the kids, Finn knew that this, right here, was exactly the kind of _living_ he needed to make up for. What had been missing, his whole life.

 

 _We captured a stormtrooper_! the kids cried gleefully, as they presented their prisoner. They still hadn't acknowledged his expressed wish to defect, but at least they weren't talking about killing him anymore. They looked up at Finn, waiting for guidance.

“A stormtrooper, eh?” he mused, smirking.

“Not anymore, sir. I want to join the Resistance.”

There was a plea for understanding on Poe's face, now, and Finn understood. He wasn't just appropriating Finn's own story for a fun little game. He wanted the kids to learn something, here.

“It's not an easy life,” Finn replied. He reached out and took Poe's bound hands. “You end up sleeping on the ground a lot.”

“I can sleep anywhere. As long as-”

Aha, there was the flirty little flicker in Poe's eyes. He looked Finn over, but didn't say _as long as it's with you_ in front of the kids.

“As long as I'm free.”

Finn unwrapped one coil of the scarf.

“You have to be brave.”

“I can be brave. I'd rather die fighting for freedom than live in the tallest penthouse on Coruscant, if it meant my comfort was bought with someone else's misery.”

Finn shook his head as he unwrapped another layer. Poe might be pouring it on for the audience, but he knew that it was true, too.

“We're not just fighting against the Order, you know. We're fighting to protect what we love. And... not just what _we_ love. For every being in every system to... to be able to raise their families in peace. No matter... no matter what those families look like.”

“That sounds beautiful,” Poe whispered.

“So tell me, soldier.” Finn unwrapped the last coil. “Do you have the heart of a rebel?”

For a moment, Poe's face was deadly solemn.

And then a hopeful smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, and light gleamed in his eyes.

“You tell me. Do I?”

“Yeah.” Finn said. “You've got this one, anyway.”

He looked down, because if he kept looking into Poe's eyes he was going to kiss him right in front of the kids. He held Poe's hands between his own. The scarf fluttered in the breeze, and he knew. He knew what he wanted.

 

He took Poe's right hand, holding the scarf between them, and looked up.

Poe's eyes widened, and his breath caught in his throat. There was no mistaking what this looked like, no mistaking the suggestion Finn was making. He'd been all over the galaxy at this point, had seen all kinds of cultures and customs. He had been a witness to more than one handfasting, in the Resistance. He knew exactly what he was doing.

And yes, they had been playing make-believe just a moment ago, but Finn wasn't playing now. His eyes were deep with love and longing. Poe's hand trembled as he plucked at the scarf and held it over their joined hands.

“Are you asking-- what I hope you're asking?”

“Poe.” Finn wrapped a coil loosely over their hands. “You're going to be such a good dad. I don't want to miss that. I don't want to miss one moment of that.”

“Oh, Force. Finn. You're gonna be the _best_.” Poe blinked the mist out of his eyes as he wrapped another layer. “But I don't want to--”

“Tie me down?” Finn wrapped another coil, sure and snug this time. “Yeah, you've said that.”

“It's such a big galaxy.”

“And I've seen more of it than I ever even wanted to. But there's this one little moon that I keep hearing about.”

“ _Home_ ,” Poe breathed, as he wrapped the last bit of scarf around their hands.

“Home is wherever you are, Poe. But I'd like to know what it's like for it to be in one place.”

“And?” Poe's free hand dropped outward toward the staring children, meaning the concept of kids of their own.

“As many as you want.”

“It's not about what I want,” Poe said reflexively.

“This time it is, Poe. It _is_ about what you want, this time.”

“Careful, because the number seventeen just-- I like the sound of it.”

“You trying to change my mind, Dameron?”

“ _No_! No. You know. Sometimes I just... say things.”

Finn did know. Poe was only ever at a loss for words when he was grieving. He was an inspiring leader and a smooth negotiator, just like his mentor. But when he was overcome with emotion- maybe the same heady fear-tinged joy that Finn was feeling right now- he did indeed just _say things_ , irreverent things.

“Seven. I meant to say seven.”

“I'm asking you because I know it's what I want. I want to have a life with you, a home with you. A family with you. Is that what you want?”

“Oh, so much, Finn." Poe's eyes were locked on Finn's, now. "So much, I can't tell you. More and more every day. I want this. _Yes_ , I want this.”

 

Lost in each other's eyes, they didn't notice the children whispering among one another, until one of them shrieked, _They got MARRIED?!?!?!_

“Not yet, bud,” Poe grinned down, blinking wetly. “But soon, before he comes to his senses.”

On the other side, little hands were patting at Finn's side for attention. _Did you just get married_?

“Not yet,” Finn echoed. “But... engaged, right?”

“Damn right, engaged. Definitely engaged.” Poe beamed at him.

Someone was tugging at Poe's sleeve. He looked down, and the child looking up at him looked very serious. _You're supposed to kiss him now_ , he whispered urgently, as if he couldn't believe that a grown-up didn't know this already.

“Thanks, buddy,” Poe whisper-shouted back. “I've never done this before.” He looked back at Finn, eyebrows bouncing.

Finn looked around dubiously; he wasn't totally comfortable kissing in front of the kids. Poe looked entirely too amused by that, and made very _un_ sexy puckers and kissy noises at him. Finn laughed and pulled him in, rubbed noses with him, and pecked him lightly on the lips. A few of the kids turned away and covered their eyes, yelling _Eww, gross! Kissing!_

“Get used to it,” Poe said, softly. “We're gonna be hearing a lot of that, in the future.”

“Our future, you mean.”

“Yeah. Our future.”

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Even when I write schmoopy engagement fluff, Poe still manages to end up in cuffs somehow. Oops?


End file.
